Back to Imladris
by aD1990
Summary: Aragorn is wounded. In Imladris, Gandalf, Elrond, Aragorn and Legolas have to decide on how to face the evil from Mordor: Aragorn and Gandalf will have to protect the Shire. This is set two years before Fellowship of The Ring. Full summary inside. R&R
1. The Hope of Men

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the Middle-earth. Then again, neither does Sauron.

**Summary**: Aragorn and Legolas were off together, eager to discover the remote parts of Middle-earth. Their journeys had lasted for months and they were returning to Rivendell. On their way home, they fell on a party of orcs full of mischiefs. In Rivendell, Gandalf, Elrond, Aragorn and Legolas have to decide on how to reactagainst the evil that spreads from Mordor.

The events depicted here are set around two years before _The Fellowship of The Ring,_ and you will see what led Aragorn to post his Rangers and himself in Bree and its surroundings.

Characters involved in this story: Aragorn, Legolas, Elrond, Gandalf, Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen (plus a few elves of lesser importance).

**Rating**: **T for first 4 chapters** and **M afterwards** (there is actually nothing too violent, tender or graphic -and between Aragorn and Arwen only-, but it gets more mature). Definitely no slash, only friendship.

Thanks for reading this, and please review. I hope you'll enjoy it! Namárië.

**Chapter 1: The Hope of Men**

The man was standing in the middle of the field, out of breath. His fallen enemies laid all around him, their blood mixing with the green and soft grass. His sword was heavy in his hand and he barely had the strength to carry it. He looked around. How many orcs had he slayed that night? A lot -and he had no strength to count. Exhausted, he let go his sword which fell hard on the ground. His right side was painful and he felt weak. During the ferocious fight he had won, an orc had come from behind him and entered his blade hard in Aragorn's side. The latter had cut the creature's head off out of revenge. He had had no time to check on his wound, then, for many other orcs were still around him, armed to the teeth and eager to kill him.

The young man slowly sat down -or rather slowly _fell_ down- and looked at the damages the orc had caused him. The wound seemed deep and heavily bleeding. The blood was dark. Aragorn found himself fearing his enemy might have injured a vital organ. Then again, since there was nothing he could do about it, he decided not to fret over it.

His thoughts were now towards his elven friend who had accompanied him, but had left right before the orc attack. He had gone hunting for the dinner and still hadn't returned. Had he also been attacked by the creatures? Since he was too weak to go searching for the Elf, Aragorn propped his back against a tree behind him to rest for a while. He would go look for his friend afterwards. He knew the latter too well to know that the Elf, being too swift and smart, would never get outnumbered by orcs. Therefore was he surely all right.

The moon was round and bright, that night. The sky was pure and the stars were shining. Evenstar... The Dúnadan thought, morose. _His_ Evenstar. Arwen. He missed her dearly. He had not seen her for long, and still wouldn't, for she was in Lothlórien, at present, in the company of the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn. She would not return to her father for some time, and since Aragorn had not planned to go to Lórien, they would not meet again soon.

The sound of a person approaching took Aragorn out of his reverie. Unable to get on his feet, he pulled his knife out and waited silently for the person who was coming. Was it another filthy and coward orc who had waited, hidden and safe, until the battle came to end? If so, Aragorn would welcome him by the rule book. Then again, the Man doubted it was an orc, for the person approaching was swift and quiet, two characteristics of hunting unknown to some stupid orc. This somewhat reassured Aragorn, for he feared he might not be in any state of fighting, at the moment. The person was now very close and Aragorn held his breath, squeezing the hilt of his elven knife.

"Estel!" he heard the person whisper. He instantly recognized Legolas' voice and got up -with difficulty- to his feet to greet the Elf, pressing his left hand on his wound to try and ease the pain.

"I'm here, Legolas," he answered softly, coming out of his hiding place. "Le abdollen..."

Legolas smiled warmly. "Mellon nin! When I laid eyes on our camp, which now looks more like a battlefield, I feared for you."

"Have you such little faith in my fighting skills?" Aragorn asked with a smirk.

"Aragorn, they were so many!" The Elf retorted, gesturing to the many bodies that laid motionless. "This is not just skill, this is a feat! You are indeed Estel, the Hope of Men." Legolas couldn't say aloud that Aragorn was indeed the heir of Elendil -because, in Middle-earth, even trees have ears-, but this is what he meant and the Ranger understood it well.

Aragorn smiled and put his hand on Legolas' shoulder as a sign of gratitude. "Hannon le."

The Elf returned the smile and grew more serious. "Do you know where they came from? And what they were after?"

"No, I don't. But I doubt they were after us. They seemed to be in a hurry. When they arrived here, they acted as if they wanted to kill me as soon as possible, so they could get back on their way."

"But you didn't give them the opportunity to do so. Neither did you leave one alive, so that we could interrogate him..."

Aragorn raised his eyebrows -something he had learned from Elrond, a reminder of his childhood spent in the House of the Elven Lord, raised by the latter himself.

Legolas understood the meaning of this expression and acknowledged that his last statement was groundless. He then smiled to his friend. "Of course, I understand. You had no time to think while fighting."

Aragorn winced. The pain in his side was beginning to become unbearable and he was still bleeding. Legolas, who still hadn't noticed his friend's condition, grew concerned. "Aragorn?" he asked, distress in his voice. "You've been wounded!" He held Aragorn's arm tightly and helped the Man sitting down, propping his back against the tree, so he could rest and recover his strength. The Ranger's hand was still covering his wound. Legolas took it and gently removed it to take a look at the injury. It seemed to be deep and painful. The problem was that Legolas had nothing to clean it, here, in the wild. He found himself thanking the Valar that the House of Elrond was near, for Aragorn was in dire need of the skills of the Lord of Imladris.

"Was this caused by a sword or an arrow?" Legolas asked.

"What difference does it make, anyway?" The Ranger retorted with a grump. His head was resting against the trunk of the tree and his eyes were shut.

The Elf assumed that the Ranger's mood was due to the terrible pain he must have been feeling. "Because the swords are sometimes poisoned. The arrows never are. As a Ranger, I thought you'd not that."

"It was a sword," Aragorn whispered, taking no offense of his friend's last remark. He was too tired to engage in a verbal jousting anyway.

At the statement, Legolas' brows furrowed, concerned. If his friend had been poisoned, there was no time to lose. Then again, did they have enough time to return to Imladris? If the poison was already spreading in Aragorn's body, it would be quick to reach the Man's heart... "I'm going to get some Athelas, Aragorn. I'll be back. Try not to move. And stay awake," the Elf added as his friend didn't respond. "If you fall asleep... Well, you have to remain conscious. You hear me?"

"Yes..." the young Númenórean answered weakly.

Legolas then left in a hurry, looking for the precious weed. He had to be very quick. After some minutes spent in the quest for Athelas, Legolas finally fell upon some, which he swiftly -but delicately- cut off from the ground. He rushed back to his friend.

"Aragorn, I've found the plant," he announced, placing a hand on the Man's shoulder. The latter slowly opened his eyes and smiled at Legolas. "Well done, mellon nin..."

Legolas placed some of the weed in his mouth and bit it, then he gently placed it on the wound. Aragorn moaned and flinched.

"Sorry," Legolas said, meeting Aragorn's grey eyes. The Man smiled weakly.

"I'm afraid I don't have any bandages. And I can't bandage it with our dirty clothes. It will have to stay that way until we reach Imladris. Do you think you can ride on your own, Aragorn?"

"Of course I can," the Ranger answered, getting up.

"Careful, try not to move the wound too much, it's not covered, so nothing will stop the bleeding."

Legolas helped him get on his feet and then went to the horses.

Meanwhile, Aragorn bent down to pick up his fallen sword. It felt unusually heavy to the young swordsman who had trouble putting it back in its sheath. Once it was done, he got on his horse and both Man and Elf rode towards the city of Imladris.

**To be continued...**

**Elvish vocabulary:**

**Hannon le**: Thank you

**Le abdollen**: you're late. (This is actually a dialogue from _The Two Towers_, when Aragorn gets back to Helm's Deep after his fall. Legolas says this right before giving Aragorn Arwen's jewel back. I thought they might have said that to one another in the past).


	2. Familiar sight

**Here is chapter two. In here, you'll find many other characters from the LOTR series -but with Aragorn and Legolas remaining the two main protagonists, of course. Anyway, thanks for reading this. Please review, so that I know if it's good. Enjoy!**

Legolas was in front, leading the way. The ride seemed endless to Aragorn who was beginning to have trouble remaining conscious, now. His eyelids were heavy and the pain was tiresome. But he had to hold on. He knew Rivendell wasn't too far, now.

Noticing his friend's exhaustion, Legolas slowed down his horse in order to ride beside Aragorn. "Do you think the Lady Arwen Undomiel will be there to greet us?" the Elf asked, knowing that such a subject would keep Aragorn awake.

"She won't," he sighed. "She's in Lothlórien."

"Oh, is she? I did not know. Will you go there soon and visit her, then?" Legolas inquired.

"No..." the Ranger whispered, utterly exhausted. His injury was still bleeding, which weakened the Man.

"Are you thirsty, Aragorn?" the Elf asked, concerned.

The Ranger did not answer, slowly drifting to unconsciousness. Legolas surmised it was high time they got to Imladris, or he would lose his friend. That thought made the young Prince frown. He would not abandon Aragorn. Grabbing the reins of Estel's horse, he commanded both horses to go faster. Time was running out.

"Aragorn, look!" Legolas shouted as they galloped. "Imladris!"

The Dúnadan looked up and spotted the gracious Elven city welcoming them from afar. Finally... he thought, somewhat relieved. Legolas, on his part, felt as much -if not more- relieved. He wondered if he had ever been happier to behold the great House of Elrond. He looked at this dear friend and they smiled at each other, satisfied that they had arrived.

How long had it been since he had led eyes on his foster father's city, Aragorn wondered. Around eight months ago, he had left Rivendell to go look for Legolas in Mirkwood, and since then, both friends had been wandering about the many roads of Middle-earth. On those journeys, they had encountered many foes and slayed many enemies, and both had -more or less- always gotten out of the fight fine.

The two riders finally entered the opened gates of Rivendell. In the courtyard near the stables, two fair Elves were waiting, a smile on their face. Both looked exactly alike, and yet Aragorn could distinguish Elladan from Elrohir. Growing up with them since he was two years old, the Man had known them all his life. He slowly smiled to them before dismounting. Once his unsteady feet hit the ground, Aragorn had to hold on to his saddle so he wouldn't fall. "Elladan! Elrohir!" he greeted them, tired.

The twins came closer to Aragorn and each pulled him into a hug, delighted to see their little brother again.

"Estel!" Elrohir exclaimed joyfully. "Mae govannen. It's good to see you again. We've missed you."

"Ada will be thrilled to know you're back!" added Elladan, just as happily.

It was of no surprise to Aragorn to see that both his brothers were here to welcome him. Their keen eyes must have spotted the riders since even before the latter had laid eyes on Rivendell.

As Elladan went over to Legolas Thranduilion to welcome him properly to the House of Elrond, Elrohir sensed something was wrong with the Ranger. "You do not look good, brother," he stated, looking at Aragorn with scrutinizing eyes. "Thin, pale, weary... bearded!" He said that last adjective with a slight grimace. Elves simply couldn't understand why Men had hair on their face. Aragorn chuckled. And then, his strength left him at once. He felt dizzy and his feet could no longer carry him. He began to fall, but before his exhausted body hit the ground, Elrohir caught him.

"Estel!" he shouted, distressed. "What..."

"He's been injured, Elrohir," Legolas informed his friend. "We've got to get him to Elrond."

Elladan went to his brothers and helped Elrohir carry the young Man. Each brother on each side of the injured, they went towards Lord Elrond's study.

"It's good to see you too, my brothers," Aragorn whispered, but Elladan hushed him up, urging him to preserve his strength.

Once they got to the door of the study, Aragorn asked his brothers to let him go, so he could greet his father with dignity. The twins knew him too well to know that they couldn't argue against him on this matter and therefore let him go, not without some reluctance -above all when they saw he had trouble keeping on his feet.

He softly knocked on the door. "Come in," answered the most familiar voice inside. Aragorn had heard that voice all his life. This very voice had reassured him when he was a small child, had encouraged and praised his efforts when he was learning to brandish a sword or wield a bow. This voice had narrated him the tales of Elven warriors or the exploits of the Kings of old, his ancestors. This voice felt like home.

He opened the door slowly and smiled at the paternal figure inside. The Elven Lord, when he saw that his son had returned to him, smiled warmly and walked over to him. "Estel!" he exclaimed, his voice full of joy.

"Ada!"

Elrond took his son into an embrace. "Mae govannen. Im gelir ceni ad lin!" _(I am happy to see you)_. He then broke the embrace to take a good look at his son and frowned at the sight. "You're covered with blood..." The elven Lord didn't know wether it was Aragorn's blood or his enemies'. He began praying the Valar for the second option.

"Elrond, Aragorn has been injured. I did what I could, but he needs your help," Legolas explained with a bow. Elrond was a great Lord of Elves and Legolas had to show him his respect. The urgency of Estel's state kept him from properly greeting Elrond.

Legolas' statement worried Elrond who glared at his son. "What have you gotten yourself into this time, Estel?"

The latter merely chuckled, feeling too weak to begin narrating his journeys to his father. When his strength left him for good, Aragorn began falling on the ground, but once again was caught in his fall. Holding him, Elrond ordered his twins to help him get Aragorn to the healing halls, where he could tend to his injuries. Legolas followed, worried for his friend.

Once Aragorn was laid on a bed, Elrond asked for hot water and several healing herbs. He looked at Estel, whose eyes were shut, surely unconscious. The healer felt the forehead of his foster son. It was burning. "Wonderful..." he sighed softly, disappointed.

Legolas, who was sitting across the bed heard Elrond. "What is it?" He asked, concerned.

"He has a high fever, I'm afraid," Elrond answered in his calm yet stern voice. He began to take off Aragorn's shirt, so he could examine the injuries. When he spotted the wound, his face was impossible to read to Legolas. Then again, wasn't his face always impossible to read? the wood Elf thought.

Elladan and Elrohir entered the hall with hot water and weeds. "How is he?" Elrohir asked. Legolas was glad the twin had asked, for he had wanted to know, but had not dared disturb the stern-looking healer. The latter sigh.

"It could be worse, I'm only hoping his organs are intact."

"He was stabbed by an orc blade, my Lord. I feared it might be poisoned, therefore I put some Athelas on the wound," Legolas explained.

"And you did well," was the answer. That was however far from being enough for Legolas. "Well?" he asked, looking at the healer, who merely raised his eyebrows. "Is it poisoned, Elrond?"

The Lord inspected the wound closely. "No, it's not."

Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas all felt relieved at once. That was a good news. "But he's lost a lot of blood," added Elrond, concern in his voice.

"I wanted to bandage the injury, but since we did not have any clean cloth on us, I thought I should better to leave it that way, fearing a dirty bandage might lead to an infection."

Elrond smiled at Legolas' smart and quick decisions. "Once again, you did well, Legolas."

Aragorn woke up and slowly opened his eyes to see his father smiling at Legolas. He also felt the hand of Elrond on his injured side and slightly moaned out of pain. It attracted the attention of the Elves who all turned to him.

"You're awake, ion nin. How are you feeling?" Elrond asked with a comforting smile.

Aragorn opened his mouth, but no words came out of it. What could he answer to such a question?

"Are you in pain?" the Lord asked.

He nodded slowly.

"Then we shall get it over with as fast as we can," Elrond replied, returning his attention to the wound. The experienced hands of the healer were painful and Aragorn had trouble remaining still. "Aragorn, if you don't cease moving, I'll never be able to treat this wound," Elrond warned. He knew he hurt his son, but then he had no other choice.

Legolas, who hurt for his friend, was holding Aragorn's hand tightly. "Why don't you give him something to make him sleep, Master Elrond?"

"We've run out of those herbs, Legolas," Elladan answered for his father. "While you were both away, a group of Elves had wandered in the woods and been attacked by orcs. Ada used the remaining weeds to heal the injured. We didn't go and fetch some more since."

"Attacked by orcs? When did this happen?" Legolas asked, thinking that these creatures had been attacking way too often, lately.

"One month ago," Elrohir answered.

Legolas' eyebrows furrowed. The orc attacks were something they would have to discuss later, once Aragorn would be better. The latter was still suffering and squeezing Legolas' hand.

"Maybe you should stop for a little while, give Estel a minute to breathe," Elladan advised his father who was disinfecting the wound with a cloth he bathed in hot water.

Elrond looked at Aragorn. It was obvious that he was in pain, which grieved the Elf. The Man's eyes were tightly shut and his body was tensed. "You'll be fine, Estel," Elrond reassured, putting his hand on the Man's shoulder. "Take a deep breath, now." Elrond followed the advice of Elladan and offered Aragorn a minute of rest.

"Well, Legolas, would you care to explain what happened?" Elrond inquired.

"I do not know exactly, my Lord."

Elrond raised his eyebrows, surprised. "How so?"

"We had set our camp for the night. I then left Estel to go hunt for some food. When I came back, the camp had turned into a battlefield. I had no idea was had happened, and got worried for Estel, whom I found hurt, but alive."

"How many orcs were there?" Elladan inquired, eager to know more about the exploit of his brother.

"They were so many, Elladan! There must have been more than sixty!"

"Sixty! That is indeed well done, little brother!" recognized Elrohir. "Well done for a Mortal, that is," he corrected, which made Aragorn chuckle.

"It was a most valiant act, my Lord Elrond!" Legolas continued.

"Valiant... or foolish...?" another voice came from behind them. No one needed to turn their head to recognize the person who had just entered. That voice was one of a kind.

"Mithrandir!" Legolas exclaimed, getting up to greet his friend.

"Yes, Legolas, it's good to see you too," the old wizard answered with a smile. "I was told a King had fallen, and therefore came to his rescue." He approached the bed slowly, holding his staff, as usual. His face was stern. Legolas supposed it was out of worry for Aragorn. He knew the wizard and the Dúnadan were close friends.

"How fares he?" Gandalf inquired, looking at Elrond. His voice was almost a whisper, for he feared he might wake up the Man.

"He has a bad fever. And the wound is very deep."

"Any organs damaged?" the wizard asked at once.

Elrond shook his head.

"Good. Very good," Gandalf whispered as he approached the unconscious Aragorn. "Has he awoken, yet?"

"Yes, not ten minutes ago. I haven't noticed him slipping back into unconsciousness, though," Elrond answered, getting back to treating the wound. Now that Aragorn was unconscious, he would not protest or wiggle himself.

When he opened his eyes, Aragorn was under a warm blanket. The feeling was pleasant. Daylight could be seen from the window of the hall. How long had he slept, he wondered. The smoke of pipe attracted his attention. Someone was in the room with him. It must not have been an Elf, though, for these pure creatures never smoked. The smell of tobacco was enough to disgust them. Aragorn slowly turned his head to see who it was, even if he had an idea on the matter. When he saw the familiar face, he smiled. "Gandalf..." he whispered.

"There, now, you should not speak. Elrond's orders," the wizard smiled fondly at the poor-looking Aragorn. "How are you feeling, my friend?" he asked, putting his hand on the Man's forehead. It was less warm than it had been several hours before.

"I... It hurts..." Aragorn said softly, placing a hand on his wounded side. There was a bandage on it.

"Master Elrond put some healing herbs on the wound. I believe that is the reason of your pain," Gandalf explained. "Elrond will be here shortly. We'll inform him about it."

Aragorn nodded. He had to wait. And he would. The dreadful pain surely wasn't going to let him get back to sleep.

"So, Aragorn," Gandalf began, inhaling a puff of tobacco. His look was stern, as if he was going to reprimand the Man. "I hear you've gotten yourself in some trouble, lately. Fighting alone against some sixty orcs..."

"I had no choice but fight, Gandalf..." he merely answered, having a hard time understanding Gandalf's point. Was he actually suggesting that Aragorn should have fled...? But before the latter could elaborate, the doors of the hall opened and Elrond entered.

"Gandalf, it never occurred to me that you would consider the halls of healing of Imladris a mere place to smoke. This is no tavern, my friend," Elrond said slowly, frowning. "And may I remind you that Aragorn, here, is in dire need of rest, something you seem incapable of granting him."

Gandalf grumbled in his beard and put his pipe away. Elrond asked for the windows to be opened, now that Gandalf had felt the urge to smoke his pipe in the room, it was beginning to be impossible to breathe. Then Elrond turned his attention to his son. "How are you feeling, Estel?"

"It hurts, my Lord..." Aragorn answered weakly.

"I told him it must be due to the weeds you've put on the wound," added Gandalf.

"Gandalf is right. Let's take a look at it, shall we?" he said as he uncovered Aragorn's upper body to access the wound. He felt somewhat reassured when he saw there was no fresh blood on the bandage. The bleeding had indeed ended. He took the bandage off and examined the injury. "It's looking better," he stated as he took some healing herbs. "I'm going to put more of these. I know they hurt but they are also doing a good job at cicatrizing the wound," the Elf Lord informed, looking at Aragorn. A bit anxious, the latter nodded. He didn't want Elrond to touch his burning side, though, and Elrond felt Aragorn's body tense. He understood the reason very easily and smiled warmly at his son. "I'll try to be as gently as possible." The father in him hated to have to hurt his son, but the healer in him knew it had to be done. Or his son could die.

Very gently, he placed the plants on Aragorn's injury. The latter winced at the touch. Valar, an injury in the belly was indeed one of the most hurtful -if not _the_ most painful-, Aragorn thought as he shut his eyes tightly and grimaced.

"There," the healer said -after what seemed to be hours to Aragorn. Elrond added something but Aragon didn't hear it, falling back to sleep. He felt a hand on his forehead and cheek -surely Elrond's, he surmised- and everything around him got dark.

**To be continued...**


	3. A destiny to embrace

**Author's Note:** Yes, I'm back! Sorry it took me so long to update, I was on holiday traveling and had no Internet. However, during my vacations, I've worked on the story and there should be about six more chapters to come (and they will come real soon, for I've already written them. I just need to make some corrections).

Anyway, thanks for the great reviews I've received, they're really important and they really made my day. You're amazing, guys!

Okay, that's it, so here's the next course! Hope you'll like it, and please tell me what you think :)

**Chapter 3: A destiny to embrace**

"This was a nasty wound," Gandalf stated, realizing Aragorn had just fallen back to sleep, and therefore would not hear him.

"It still looks nasty..." Elrond corrected as he put a bandage on it.

"Yes, it does. And then again, it looks better than it has." Gandalf always had the words to comfort a friend. And he always had the answer to everything... Elrond thought, grinning softly.

"You know, Master Elrond, I cannot believe how much he resembles Elendil." His voice was but a whisper, so as not to wake the sleeper.

"He does. And I hope it is only physically, for the weakness than ran in the blood of Elendil's son, Isildur, is likely to be found in the veins of his heirs. Such weakness must not affect Aragorn, though, for I feel his help will be much needed in the years to come." Elrond looked gravely at Gandalf. "Tell me, my friend, how fares Bilbo Baggins? And his nephew, for that matter?"

Elrond was well aware of Gandalf's recent comings and goings **into** the Shire. The Lord of Imladris had felt some movements in Middle-earth and knew the Battle of their time was to take place in the near future. He was also aware that the One Ring of Sauron was ardently looked for.

"They're both fine," the Wizard answered, not willing to go on further about the Hobbits. "But how can you say such things about Men, Elrond?"

"They have let me down in the past, I will not let them do so once more." The memory of Isildur and himself in Mount Doom came back to Elrond's mind. A memory he would rather forget.

"It is Aragorn we're talking about. Not Isildur," Gandalf retorted, as though he had read Elrond's mind. "Have you such little faith in the one you yourself named Estel, the Hope of Men?"

"Aragorn is a son to me and I believe in him as never before I have believed in Men. If one can unite the fallen kingdoms of Middle-earth and reunite the realms of both Gondor and Arnor, it is none but Aragorn. I do have faith in him. His battling skills are undeniable and his heart is pure, but for the moment he does not seem to be willing to choose this path. And this is a choice only he can make. A destiny only he can embrace."

"Give him some time, Elrond. You'll see. When his hour will come, Aragorn, son of Arathorn and heir of Elendil will make the right choice. He still has time. Bilbo Baggins is not yet ready either."

Elrond did not understand what Gandalf meant by this last statement about the Hobbit, but then again, it was of common knowledge that the Wizard often spoke in riddles, therefore he did not ask him to elaborate. "May the Valar hear you, Gandalf... But I'm afraid we might be running out of time sooner than expected."

"What makes you say that?"

"The attacks, Gandalf. The Enemy is regrouping armies of orcs and sending them to spy on us. We have to be very careful, now."

"Possibly. This is a matter we must discuss with the others. Including Aragorn."

"You are right, he is one of the main people concerned. I will summon a council once he'll be up and about."

Gandalf nodded and both stood up. Elrond gave instructions to a healer concerning Aragorn before leaving the room.

"_Do you not fear your father might see us?" the young Dúnadan asked to the Elven Lady he had fallen in love with a few years ago._

"_I do not fear anything anymore, now that you are here to protect me against any enemy, Estel," she answered, her splendid eyes filled with honesty and respect._

"_Arwen, your father is not your enemy..." he tried to reason her._

"_If he tries to keep us away from each other, he is."_

_He smiled fondly at her. She was so brave, ready to do anything just to be with him. He felt very lucky, that such a perfect and pure creature felt this way towards him, a simple Mortal. He kissed her passionately, not caring about being seen by an Elf wandering in the woods of Rivendell._

"_I love you, Estel," she admitted, caressing his cheek._

"_I love you, Arwen."_

_She felt sadness in his eyes as he said those tender words. "Why do you appear so sullen when you should be overwhelmed with joy?"_

"_Because I do not deserve your love, Arwen. And because my love for you will be the death of you."_

"_Estel, of all men -Mortals and Immortals- I have met, you are the only one to whom I would happily offer my life. I cannot imagine living forever without you by my side."_

"_And I cannot bring myself to make you forsake your immortal life, Arwen. This is the most precious gift of all."_

"_The day I met you is the most precious memory I have. Being by your side is what I long for when you are away. Do not entertain such saddening thoughts when we are finally together. For now, let us enjoy the moment. We shall think of our future later," she said before kissing him tenderly._

Aragorn woke up with a soft smile on his face. The dream he had just had was a memory he cherished. He and Arwen had had this conversation several years earlier. The dreams in which his Arwen figured were the ones Aragorn enjoyed having the most.

He easily recognized the place he was in. He had been there a considerable amount of times -as a healer or as, most of the time, an injured man. The healing halls of Rivendell. He surmised several hours had went by since he had last fallen asleep. His right side was still burning. He looked around to see if someone was there to ease his pain. He spotted Gandalf whispering to Elrond in the far end of the hall. What were they discussing of/about, Aragorn had no idea, although he thought he might have heard them saying words such as "orcs", "borders", "spy", "should not tell him" and "no time". They must have been discussing the recent orc attacks, then, Aragorn supposed. He looked to his left and noticed something had changed. He could not see the window anymore, for it was hidden by some sort of a wooden screen. The latter had several holes in it, and Aragorn thought he could distinguish a figure behind it. What was happening...? He craved to know, but could not get up to see. He had to silence/shut his curiosity up for a moment.

"Well, well," Gandalf's voice attracted his attention and he turned his head to the right side of the bed, where his friend was now seated. "Awoken, are we?" the Wizard smiled warmly.

"What is going on, Gandalf?" Aragorn asked at once without even taking the time to return the smile.

The old man sighed and did not answered the question. "How are you feeling?"

Aragorn frowned. Something was happening, and he was not to be told about it...? He opened his mouth to protest, but Gandalf put his hand up to stop him. "Answer my question and I will answer yours."

"I'm feeling better, but I think the bandage is too tight..." Aragorn explained, knowing he should better do as the Wizard told rather than arguing with him.

"Maybe I should take a look at it, then. I think I have the skills required to loosen a bandage," he said as he took off the Ranger's blanket. When Aragorn winced under Gandalf's touch, the latter smiled apologetically. "I'm afraid I do not have the nimble and experienced healing hands of the Lord Elrond."

Aragorn smiled to him and looked back to his left, hoping that concentrating on trying to figure out what was going on behind that screen would make him forget the pain that Gandalf stirred.

"Can you move you knee for me?" Aragorn heard from behind the screen. He recognized Elrond's voice at once and supposed he was healing someone. His curiosity growing, the Ranger looked back at Gandalf. It was time the Wizard answered his question, as he had promised.

Gandalf sighed. He heard what the eyes of Aragorn said clearly. "Very well. After all, a promise is a promise, is it not?" Aragorn nodded silently. "There has been an accident," Gandalf continued slowly, sorrow in his eyes. "Considering the attacks of the orcs were getting a bit too frequent, Elrond asked his sons to go and investigate in the woods of Rivendell. Legolas went with them."

Aragorn was waiting for the next chapter of Gandalf's captivating story, but it never came. At this point, the Wizard's silence wasworth all the words in the world to Aragorn. "Legolas!" he softly exclaimed and looked to the wooden screen, then back to Gandalf. The latter was nodding silently. He put his hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "You must not fret over him too much, though, for he is faring pretty well. He received an arrow in the knee and one in the arm. There was no great amount of blood loss, unlike you. Elrond is treating him, presently."

Aragorn was concerned. How could he not be, when he knew his friend was wounded...? "When did this happen, Gandalf?"

"Two days ago."

"Did I sleep that long...?" the Ranger asked, amazed.

"Yes, my friend. And it was a most needed rest."

"Elladan and Elrohir, are they...?"

"They're both fine, do not worry."

Somewhat relieved, Aragorn grimaced nonetheless. The latest events had been far from cheerful, in Middle-earth. Orcs were getting more numerous and a shadow was apparently growing in the East, around the plains of Gorgoroth and Mount Doom, Sauron's lair. In this darkest of hours, the face that appeared at once in Aragorn's mind was that of Arwen Undomiel. Only she could comfort him. Only she knew the words to whisper to his ear to reassure him. No matter how fond Aragorn was of the old Wizard, it was Arwen he wanted by his side, not Gandalf. With the fair face of his Elven love in mind, Aragorn fell back to sleep.

**To be continued...**

**That was Chapter 3. Did you like it? Anyway, thanks a lot for reading it! Chap 4 will be up real soon.**


	4. Memories

**Chapter 4: Memories**

**Three days before**

A soft knock on the door of his room took Legolas by surprise. "Yes?" he asked.

"My lord," an Elven servant answered without opening the door. "Dinner is served."

"Very well, I shall be down in a moment, thank you." Once the footsteps of the servant had vanished, Legolas sighed. It had been a terrible day, half of which he had spent at his injured and unconscious friend's side in the halls of healing. Aragorn was not recovering very well, which was troublesome. And then there was the problem of the much too frequent attacks led by orcs. That was another matter entirely, but both had been keeping Legolas' mind busy for a while. He would have to discuss it with the others at dinner.

Legolas sat between Elrohir and Gandalf. As usual, Elrond sat at the end of the table. Everyone's face was grim, and, during the dinner, they barely spoke. All were thinking of Aragorn.

Legolas, looking blankly at the plate before him, was remembering/recalling a special moment which had occurred some time ago. He would always remember it as one of the days when Aragorn saved his life. Both of them had gone hunting wild creatures in the forrest of Mirkwood. Hoping they would more easily fall upon those if they parted, each went into different directions. They had been right in doing so, for, half an hour later, Legolas fell upon two untamed wargs -deadly creatures which could become evil if raised surrounded by violence and hatred. Legolas wanted to catch one of those to find out if they could also become regular mounts if their master showed them the meaning of love and care. Aragorn had qualified this idea of "proof of the Elven naivety as far as the nature was concerned. You, Elves, put your trust far too easily in anything that is linked to the wild. Wargs are not to be taken for horses, my friend," the Ranger had warned. Legolas softly chuckled as he remembered Aragorn's words. The latter had been right, though: Legolas had tried to catch a warg and had therefore forgotten to keep an eye on the other one. The second warg was already running towards Legolas when the silent Ranger had jumped from a tree and fallen upon the charging and heinous creature, killing it instantly with his knife. Meanwhile, the other one had escaped, runningoff like a wild dog. On this very day, had Aragorn not been there to come to the rescue of his friend, Legolas might have died.

"Legolas?" Gandalf's voice took him out of his reverie. "I suggest you should eat something, my lad." The Wizard knew how Legolas was feeling. He, too, was worried about Aragorn. But he also knew that the Elf had to keep his strength if he wanted to be of any help to the Númenórean. Legolas followed his friend's wise advice and ate in silence.

The Lord Elrond was also in deep thoughts. The memory he had of Aragorn was a very old one. The Man was very young, in his late twenties. He was now aware of his real identity and was in a phase of self-questioning. At that time, what had struck the Lord of Imladris, was how Aragorn had been working twice as hard as before. His fighting skills had grown impressively fast and his endurance had doubled. He had showed a strong will of following in the footsteps of the Kings of old, his ancestors. Elrond had been proud of his foster son, seeing this as a good sign for the future of Men. However, in time, the Man had become more gloom and less inclined to show his feelings. In his endless wanderings all over Middle-earth, he had acquired experience -especially concerning people- and had somewhat lost his optimism. Now, the young boy raised as an Elf had vanished, making way for the sinister Ranger. Elrond hoped dearly that the Númenórean would not, once his time would come, abandon his own people. Then again, he had faith in Aragorn. He knew his son was brave and Men could rely on him. Aragorn had proved this more than once when he had ridden among the Rohirrims or served Ecthelion in Minas Tirith. And then, there was Arwen. Aragorn -ever the valiant warrior- had conquered the untamed heart of Elrond's only daughter. The Lord had trouble accepting this union, for he didn't want to lose his daughter. He knew the lay of Beren and Luthien all too well to know that such love was doomed to end sadly. Such union was to be forbidden. And yet, Elrond had not the power to command Arwen's heart. If she loved Aragorn, there was nothing he could do against it. He could try and reason her, of course. He already had and would keep on doing so, but he knew his daughter to be stubborn and his foster son to be lovable. He sighed as this thought. Yes, he loved Aragorn. And deep inside, he knew there was no one else he could trust to make his daughter happy. Aragon was faithful, brave, caring and wise. He was also the last Hope for Middle-earth.

"Elladan," Elrohir asked with a smirk lightening the sad atmosphere of the room. "Do you remember when Estel first defeated you in a sword fight?"

The older twin softly chuckled. "I do, actually, and I seem to remember he got you too, brother."

"That's right. Estel is a Man who knows how to wield his sword..." Elrohir added with a sigh. Both twins were fond of their foster brother and had been proud of him when he had succeeded in showing a better aptitude in battle than they both did.

"He'll never defeat Lord Elrond, though," Legolas entered the conversation, a smile on his face. Elrond raised his eyebrows. Deep in his thoughts, he had no idea what the discussion was about. He had only heard his name.

"Indeed," Gandalf said, rubbing his long beard. "I remember having arbitrate this duel. And as far as I remember, Aragorn was well on his way to overcome Elrond. But a Man's endurance is nothing compared to an Elf's..."

They all smiled at the table. "How long did the duel last, Gandalf?" Legolas asked.

"If my memory is correct, it lasted about four hours." Or was it five...? I can't recall exactly, the Wizard added in his mind. This Dúnadan is most precious to Men. Many trials still lie before him, on the dangerous path he will have to take, and I know he will overcome them all. Let us simply hope he still has some time ahead before it all begins... The Wizard chuckled when he remembered something his young friend had often repeated to him. "Gandalf, you speak in riddles, my friend." He however grew more serious when the rest of Aragorn's words came back to his mind. "I have most of the time trouble understanding your meaning, but you are of the wisest and, if I were a blind man lost in the darkness, I would trust your voice to be my guide." The young Man knew how to address the Wizard, and the latter was very fond of him. He had the utmost faith in the last of the heirs of Elendil and was glad such a destiny belonged to Aragorn. He knew he could trust him to guide the Men and reunite Middle-earth. He had known it ever since he had laid eyes on the child. Gandalf smiled as the image of the toddler came to his mind. He had appeared kind and caring, but also swift and smart to the Wizard. And this impression had been right: Aragorn was indeed the one who could bring back balance in Middle-earth.

**Present**

A terrible nightmare woke Aragorn up after only a few hours sleep. He had dreamt Legolas had been attacked by wargs and he had not been there on time to save his friend, arriving just a few minutes after the fight. The Elf's pale and stiff body showed no sign of life and Aragorn had fallen into despair. What was he to become without his dearest friend? Thank the Valar, it was only a dream and Legolas was fine... Or was he? Aragorn realized as he recalled his last talk with Gandalf. He immediately turned his head to the left. The wooden screen was still there, blocking the Ranger's sight. At once, he felt the urge to get up and check on Legolas. Was it indeed the woodland Elf, who was lying behind? Or was it all just a dream...? His curiosity was too great to be ignored and Aragorn tried to sit up in his bed. Bad idea, he realized as his wound started hurting more than before. He felt his brow was burning and he was sweating. Yet, he had to know... As he finally got seated on the bed, the doors of the healing halls opened and Elrond entered. Ouch, the Ranger thought. He knew the Elf Lord wouldn't like his patient to move.

"Aragorn!" The latter exclaimed at once. "Can you please explain what's gotten into your mind? You are in no condition of moving!"

He was terribly angered, Aragorn thought with a grimace. "I..." he began, but Elrond cut him off. "You lie back down immediately!"

Aragorn did as he was told, trying to protest, but the Lord wouldn't hear a thing. Once the Ranger was back in his bed, Elrond sat next to it and began unwrapping the wound to look at the damages his foolish son had just done. He also cast a cold glance at the Man. "Well? Why did you felt the urge of getting up so soon?"

"I needed to know what's behind this," Aragorn answered out of breath, gesturing **at** the screen.

"Did you, really? How is it that I am not surprised? You've always been curious. And still, at your age, you should be able to control such impulse, especially if they could be life-threatening," Elrond lectured Aragorn and the latter felt like his was a small child all over again. He did not like that, for it made him feel helpless. He wanted to respond, but surmised Elrond would retort that once again, he had not silenced his impulse. And Lord Elrond's wrath could be, if not life-threatening, quite terrifying. He had had the occasion of noticing so several times in the past.

Gandalf then entered the room and came straight to Aragorn's side. He inquired of the Ranger's state and Elrond explained the incident to Gandalf, not without looking at Aragorn with annoyance. It appeared the latter didn't mind, not even hearing the conversation the two were having on him. He wanted to shut them up and ask them of Legolas, but had neither the strength nor the courage to do so. Therefore he politely waited them to finish talking. Elrond then left Aragorn's side and disappeared behind the screen. Aragorn realized Elrond still had not mentioned Legolas' recent accident to him.

Aragorn slowly turned his head towards Gandalf who was still talking, apparently addressing the Ranger, but the latter couldn't hear the words his mouth was saying. Waiting for the Wizard to finish -more out of politeness than interest, really- he asked: "how is he, Gandalf?"

"How is who?"

Valar, did he do this on purpose? "Legolas..." the Ranger answered with an annoyed sigh.

"He will be fine," he reassured with a warm smile.

"I have been hearing the two of you for far too long, now, given Estel's condition," they heard Elrond's voice as he left Legolas' side to return to Aragorn's. "You should be resting," he said as he sat on the edge of the bed. His anger towards the reckless Ranger seemed to have vanished by now and his look was warm again. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, ada." Aragorn knew he wouldn't fooled the renowned Elf so easily.

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "I honestly doubt that, after the smart idea you just had of getting up in order to properly reopen the wound... I will have to change your bandage, too," he stated as he turned his attention back to the injury.

"How is he?" Aragorn finally asked to the healer.

"He will be fine, Aragorn. He is asleep at present and recovering pretty well. It is not him who worries me..." Elrond answered. Aragorn gasped and flinched when the Elf touched his wound. "Still sensitive, I see," Elrond stated, disappointed. Had Aragorn not sat in his bed, his side might have been looking better... But the Valar had decided otherwise and the wound's healing was delayed. "I need you to focus on yourself for the moment, Aragorn," Elrond ordered. "Concentrate on your own healing. It will be much more useful than fretting for Legolas. Do you understand?"

Aragorn sightly nodded, his eyes shut because of the endless and burning pain in his side.

"You will have to go back to sleep," Elrond added, sensing his son's exhaustion.

"I don't want to sleep anymore..." Ah, Aragorn had always been protesting whenever Elrond had to heal him. Not out of fear or pain, really, but because of his vulnerability, a reminder of his difference from his Elven family. Elves were never sick, Mortals were. And Aragorn had always hated weakness.

"Of course you do," Elrond corrected his son. "And you will, I'll see to that, and so will Gandalf."

"I want to see Legolas..."

"You'll see him soon enough. Now, no more protesting, try and get some sleep. You need it," Elrond put an end to the conversation and turned to Gandalf. "I have some important business to attend to, can I count on you to make sure Aragorn gets some rest?"

"Of course you can, Master Elrond. Go, I'll watch over those two."

Elrond nodded his thanks and quietly left the room. Aragorn closed his eyes, realizing his father had been right: he _was_ tired. As soon as he had closed his eyes, he fell into unconsciousness with Gandalf at his side.

**To be continued...**

**Author's note**: Tolkien actually wrote in his notes that Aragorn was the best swordsman of Middle-earth and that Elrond would be the only one capable of defeating him, thanks to the Elvish endurance.

I think it's pretty cool, it shows the full extent of Aragorn's skills, therefore I decided to put this in the story.

So what did you think of the chapter?


	5. Beren & Luthien

**Chapter 5: Beren & Luthien**

Aragorn opened his eyes, feeling much better than he had so far. The fever must have broken, he supposed. Feeling better meant being able to leave the bed soon, and then sitting at Legolas' side, watching over him as he healed, just as Legolas had watched over Aragorn a few days earlier.

An Elven healer of Rivendell came to Aragorn and took a look at his injury. It was looking better and the pain was now much weaker than before. "My Lord, as far as I'm concerned, I would allow to you leave your bed tomorrow," the healer stated with a warm smile. "You wound is clean, now, and there are no longer any danger of infection. Your state should be improving within a few days."

Aragorn knew the healer had partly made a joke in saying he might leave the bed _tomorrow_, but it overwhelmed the young and adventurous Man who decided he might try and leave it _today_. "Is the Lord Elrond planning on coming here today?" he asked the healer.

"Yes, my Lord, however he won't be here until late in the evening, for he has had a certain amount of urgent business to settle, lately."

"Very well, thank you," the Ranger answered. "You may go, I will not require your presence anymore today." This -although it was very polite- meant the Elf had to leave, and the latter understood it very well. He elegantly bowed and left the hall.

Aragorn sat up at once. The swift motion did not awake any pain and he put his feet on the cold stoned floor. The contact was unpleasant. Aragorn had not stood up for days and he needed a little time to get used to it again. He put a shirt and pants on. Holding the bed and then the wooden screen, he finally made it on the other side. There, in the bed, laid his Elven friend, Legolas. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady. Aragorn noted the bandages around the Elf's right arm and left knee and grimaced when he imagined the pain Legolas must have suffered from the knee injury. Exhausted of his little escapade, Aragorn sat down on the chair next to the bed and watched over his friend for some time.

When Legolas opened his eyes, a few hours later, he was surprised to see that his Mortal friend was there. "Aragorn...!" he exclaimed with a faint smile. He noticed the Dúnadan looked better than he had a few days before, when he had accompanied him back to Imladris. For that, the Elf was thankful. Obviously, the Lord Elrond had done a good job, once again.

"Yes, mellon nin, it is me. How are you feeling?" Aragorn asked with a warm smile.

"I feel fine, there's hardly any pain anymore. You?"

"The same. What's happened?"

"Elladan, Elrohir, several other Elves and I went out to try and find out more about the orcs. They fell upon us and we got outnumbered. We must have killed several of them, but not enough, and I received two arrows. The rest is blurry..."

Aragorn nodded and the two fell silent for a time. After several minutes of quiet, they heard a beautiful voice starting singing in Elvish. They easily recognized the lay of Beren and Luthien. Aragorn both loved and loathed this tale. He loved it because it made him think of Arwen and his love for her, and he hated it because of its hopeless ending.

After a time, Aragorn realized he knew this voice. 'It cannot be..." he whispered as he got up from the chair, walking towards the balcony.

"What is it?" Legolas inquired.

"It's her, Legolas! It's Arwen, she is here!" Aragorn said with a smile of excitement.

"Did you not tell me she was visiting her grandmother?"

"So she has told me, but I can recognize her voice." Turning to his friend, he added: "I have to go find her, Legolas!"

The latter frowned. "Shouldn't you be in bed, Aragorn?" Since his friend didn't answer, he went on. "I don't think this is a good idea, you could get hurt, or worse: Elrond could find you..."

"She is a few floors up, I can climb..." The reckless Ranger went on, paying no attention to his friend's advice.

"Climb? Have you lost your mind? You are in no state of climbing, mellon nin."

"I'll be right back," Aragorn said as he began climbing the numerous floors of Imladris. The task happened to be very difficult. He had to make sure no one saw him and had to ignore the pain his climb had awoken. The last one wasn't so hard, after all, because he knew he would find Arwen once he got to her room and this thought gave Aragorn wings. He could have climbed to the highest edge of Caradhras if needed, as long as Arwen would be there to greet him once he'd have arrived.

The voice was getting closer now and Aragorn slowed his pace. He saw her. Her back was facing the balcony, therefore she did not see the young Man coming in. He made as little noise as possible and simply admired her. The song was almost over and Aragorn felt almost sad: he wanted it to go on endlessly, so that he could stand there, looking at his love forever.

Once the song ended, she turned around and the presence of Aragorn surprised her, at first, for she had not heard him come in, but then she was most overjoyed to see him.

"Aragorn!" she exclaimed, walking towards him, arms wide open to hold him.

He smiled and gladly accepted the embrace. They kissed tenderly and passionately. It had been so long since they had last seen each other...

"I've missed you," Aragorn said. "I thought you were in Lothlórien."

"I've missed you too. I was in Lothlórien, but I shortened my stay, there," the Elf answered, caressing Aragorn's bearded cheek. "I wish we could stop time and live this moment forever. I do not want to lose you again."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. "So do I, my love, but neither of us have any control over time. I fear many trials still lay ahead before we might have a chance to live together." He sighed.

"Do not fear the years to come, Estel. I have faith in you, so should you. You will overcome the **trials** and will become King. You are not weak."

"I do not wish to be King."

"This decision is not yours to make**.** It is in your blood. Ever since you were born, you bore the fate of Middle-earth in your hands and I know you will not fail."

Aragorn looked down, caressing his love's Elven ears. Arwen put her hand on Aragorn's wounded side in a loving manner, ignoring he had been injured. The latter winced. Distressed, she broke their embrace.

"You have been wounded!" she exclaimed, looking at his covered side.

"I am fine, Arwen," he said, taking her hand in his. "This is nothing, do not worry."

She opened his shirt, saw the bandages and frowned. "Sit down," she ordered, pushing him gently on the bed as he was beginning to feel dizzy and had trouble standing up. He did as she told and she began unwrapping the bandages. She grimaced when she saw the wound. It was bleeding once again. "What happened?" she asked, helping him to lie down on her bed.

"Nothing but a common battle injury. An orc stabbed me with his sword." Once again, Arwen grimaced when she pictured herself the creature stabbing his filthy sword hard in her lover's side. "I was outnumbered," he elaborated.

She nodded silently and caressed his cheek. His eyes were shut as he was trying to regain his spirits. He put his hand on hers and looked at her tenderly. "You are so fair, Arwen Undomiel..." he whispered, smiling. She returned the smile and bent down to kiss his lips.

There was a knock on the door. The two panicked, for Aragorn was not supposed to be in Arwen's room. When he was in good health, the room of Elrond's daughter was a place forbidden to the Dúnadan, and this time it also meant Aragorn had been reckless by getting up in his **frail** state. His punishment would be twice as hard if he was to be found here. Arwen quickly put her hand on Aragorn's mouth to keep him from talking. "Who is it?" she asked, nervous.

"My Lady," a voice answered from behind the door. "The Lord Elrond has required your presence at the dinner, tonight."

"Very well, I shall come in a minute."

They both waited for the footsteps to fade. Arwen helped Aragorn to get up. "You have to go back to the halls of healing, your wound is not cured yet, you will need medicine and rest."

He nodded and kissed her. When he began walking towards the balcony, she grabbed his hand. "Wait, you cannot go back from there, you are too weak."

"There is no other way, Arwen..."

"Yes, there is. Follow me."

"No! I do not care if anyone catches me, but they must not find us together. Elrond would be disappointed in you, and I can't allow that."

"Then I will tie a rope at my balcony. That way, it will be easier for you to go back down."

He nodded and she did as she told. Once the rope was ready, she looked deeply in his eyes. "Do not forget, Aragorn: have faith in yourself," she whispered before leaving the room.

He finally made it back in the halls of healing. Legolas was asleep, so Aragorn silently pulled on the Elvish rope, which fell down to his feet. He threw it away through the balcony, making sure no one would find the evidence and got back to his bed. He stopped at once, though. Gandalf was there, sitting at the right side of Aragorn's empty bed. He didn't know what to do or say anymore. He felt empty. How was he going to explain his little trip in Imladris...?

"Enjoying the view, are we, Aragorn?" the WIzard asked sarcastically. The Man did not respond, simply stood motionless. "Come back to bed before you fall down," Gandalf continued. The old Wizard's voice was never harsh, so Aragorn never knew wether he was angry or not. The Dúnadan obeyed nonetheless and laid down in his bed. He could feel the scrutinizing gaze of Gandalf on him, and it made him feel ill-at-ease. After a moment of silence and scrutiny, the Wizard looked down at the wound and grunted. He began mumbling and Aragorn thought he heard something about a foolish and reckless boy. He wandered wether he was the object of the mumblings, but he surely felt nothing like a _boy_ anymore. At eighty-five, Aragorn was more than an adult to a Mortal. Compared to Gandalf, though, he was merely a child, indeed.

"Will you finally tell me why you got out of bed?" the Wizard asked, whispering, so he wouldn't wake up Legolas. As he said those words, he pressed a wet cloth hard on Aragorn's injury. Aye, the Wizard was _very_ angry at him. Gandalf had always been careful with words or with the tone he used when he spoke them, but his emotions were fully displayed through his gestures. The hard and painful pressure he had just inflicted to Aragorn was a clear proof that the Wizard was angry. Aragorn winced at the pain and tried to remove Gandalf's hand -which was still pressing the cloth on the Man's side- but the Wizard did not let go.

"You're hurting me, Gandalf," Aragorn conceded, gasping.

"I suggest you get used to it, because this is but a glimpse of the pain Elrond would have inflicted you, had he known about your wanderings in his city," the Wizard retorted, frowning.

"He will not know," Aragorn added, wiggling himself and shutting his eyes.

Gandalf finally let go and Aragorn took a deep breath, relieved. He felt the Wizard's eyes scrutinizing him once again. "And I wonder what Elrond would do if he knew where you were..."

How could Gandalf know where Aragorn had been was beyond the latter's reach. All he knew was that his friend was a Wizard, and this meant he had many powers. "You will tell him nothing about it," the Dúnadan whispered, almost pleading. "If Elrond knew..." Aragorn could not end his sentence. He didn't know what Elrond would do, and realized he did not wish to imagine it, let alone find it out.

"No, I will not say a word." Gandalf's voice was now perfectly even.His anger seemed to have vanished.

"How did you know where I was?" Aragorn had to know.

"My dear friend," Gandalf answered, smiling fondly at the Man as if he was a child, "no need to be a Wizard to know where you were when I am fully aware of your feelings towards the daughter of your foster father..."

Aragorn softly nodded. Everyone in Rivendell knew of the love that Arwen and Aragorn shared for one another. Gandalf cleaned the wound and put a new bandage around it. Exhausted, Aragorn fell to sleep, hoping he would dream of Arwen.

**To be continued...**

**That's it for chapter 5. I would really like to know your opinion on it. Thanks for reading!**


	6. A mortal life

**Chapter 6: A Mortal life**

Arwen walked towards the dining hall. Her father was waiting for her, it seemed. She knew she had to appear as calm as usual, and yet she could not. Aragorn was in Imladris too, seriously wounded, and she was not allowed to stay by his side. Although she wanted with all her heart to go to the halls of healing, she had to restrain herself.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the dining hall, forcing herself to smile and appear undisturbed. She sat at Elrond's right side and next to Elrohir who was discussing with Glorfindel.

"Arwen," Elrond addressed her, smiling. "You have been delayed." he stated, eager to know why her daughter had been late for dinner.

She had to lie to her father, and Arwen hated it, but it was batter than telling her the truth about the recent moment she had just shared with Aragorn. "I had fallen asleep, Ada, and therefore have not heard the bells calling for dinner."

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "Asleep? Are you feeling feverish?" he asked, concerned, putting his hand on her forehead.

"I'm fine," she retorted, looking down at her plate. "I was only resting."

The Elven Lord took her hand in his to take a closer look at her sleeve. "Is this blood?" he asked, confused. Arwen got scared. It _was_ blood. Aragorn's blood. When she had touched his side, her sleeve must have gotten in contact with the blood of the injury. She quickly hid her hand under the table. Useless gesture, since Elrond had already seen the blood, but it was some sort of a reflex. Why did her father always have to see everything, she wondered, angry. What was she going to say, now...?

"No, Ada, I have done some painting in the evening, and stained my dress..."

Elrond did not respond. Had he believed her? Neither of them ever talked about it again until the end of the dinner, though, and once it ended, Arwen followed her brothers into the gardens while Elrond went to the halls of healing.

Gandalf was still there, watching over Legolas and Aragorn, sitting by the Elf's side.

"Has there been any changes, Gandalf?" The Elven Lord asked, walking towards Legolas.

"Legolas is awoken, as you can see," The Wizard answered simply, not mentioning Aragorn's recent bleeding.

"Indeed. How are you feeling, Legolas?"

"Much better, my Lord. The pain has vanished entirely, now." The young Elf's tone of voice was steady, which was a good sign.

"I am glad to hear it." Elrond checked the bandages. Fortunately, there was no sign of infection. The woodland Elf was out of danger, now. "You should be able to get up in a couple of days," the healer stated, putting his hand on Legolas' shoulder. He then began to walk towards the other injured. The latter's healing was longer and more difficult, most of all because he was a Mortal, not an Elf. Elrond stood motionless near Aragorn's bed and sighed. The Man was deeply asleep. Elrond turned to face Gandalf. "Anything to declare about him?"

Gandalf simply shook his head.

The Elven Lord removed the bandage to check on the wound. "It has been bleeding again...!" he stated, confused.

"Has it?" Gandalf asked, faking to be surprised.

"Gandalf, if you've been by his side for hours, you should know what has happened. A wound almost cicatrized does not simply start bleeding for no reason!"

"I have no idea what happened, I assure you, Lord Elrond."

Elrond gazed at the blood covered bandage. It reminded him of Arwen's red sleeve... He suddenly gasped and squeezed the bandage in his hand. Of course, he had understood what had happened. He was not to be fooled so easily... Elrond slowly turned to Gandalf, his voice steady and even as always. "Are you quite certain you are not aware of the reason of the bleeding?" He asked again. The Wizard shook his head.

"Well, then, let me enlighten you: Aragorn has left his bed to wander freely in the corridors of Imladris."

"As he, really? Foolish boy..." The Wizard merely grumbled in his beard.

However, Elrond did not tell Gandalf anything about Aragorn and Arwen, simply because he surmised the Wizard was fully aware of it already. Since his foster son was asleep, Elrond did not feel like waking him up to discuss his escapade in his daughter's chambers and rather let him sleep. The Man needed it very much and they would have enough time to talk about it once Aragorn would feel better.

When Aragorn opened his eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. He was feeling better, now, and the pain in his side had almost vanished. Someone was at his side. It was not Gandalf, this time, but his Elven friend Legolas. Aragorn was most pleased to see him, all the more since it meant the Elf was now healed and authorized to leave his bed.

"Legolas!" he exclaimed, smiling.

"Yes, the Lord Elrond has let me leave the halls of healing this morning. Are you feeling better yourself?"

"Yes. I wish he would let me leave too..."

"It's only a matter of time, Aragorn. You have to be patient. Your wounds were much worse than mine, therefore they need more time to heal. But I'm sure you'll be able to stand on your feet within a couple of days," Legolas tried to reassure his friend. "Are you thirsty?"

Aragorn nodded and the Elf helped his friend drink some water. "So?" Legolas asked with a chuckle. "Did you meet the Lady Arwen?"

"Indeed, I have."

"Good. You did well, then. I heard there has been an accident, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Your wound has started bleeding again. I figured it was due to the efforts you made to climb to her room."

Aragorn laughed, relieved. "You are right, mellon nin."

At that instant, Elrond entered the halls. "Ah, I see Aragorn is awoken. Tell me, has your wound started bleeding during the night, for no reason?"

"No, my Lord, I can hardly feel any pain," Aragorn answered, aware of the sarcastic tone Elrond had just used.

"I am glad to hear it. Now, there is a matter I would very much like to discuss with you, Aragorn, but this is neither the place no the time to do so, therefore we will have to postpone it."

Aragorn was lost. What did Elrond have to tell him that Legolas could not hear? Still, he had no choice but accept. "Very well, my Lord."

"It is about my daughter, Arwen," the Elven Lord elaborated.

Aragorn suddenly felt empty and got scared -not for himself but for Arwen. He feared her father might punish her for betraying his trust.

"Your wound is cleaned," Elrond stated as he put another bandage on it. "You should be able to leave your bed in a few days. Rest, now, you still need it." Elrond then left the room.

Aragorn turned to Legolas. "How can he know...? It is not possible, no one saw us together, he _shouldn't_ know...!" He was more thinking out loud than talking to the Elf.

"I have no idea how he came by this information, but Elrond has always known everything. It is impossible to hide anything from him. You should know that, by now..."

"I know..." Aragorn simply sighed and fell back to sleep.

A soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Arwen said in her melodious voice. Her _Adar_ came in and closed the door behind him.

"Arwen, I need to hear the truth," he went straight to the point.

She did not understand what he was talking about. "The truth about what, Ada?"

Elrond sighed. "About Aragorn."

Arwen's body tensed. Although she loved the name of Aragorn and could say it endlessly without ever getting tired of it, she disliked hearing it from her father's mouth. Whenever he had spoken his name to her, it had been a bad sign.

"What about him?" she had to try and act as if she had not seen him recently.

"Do not play this game with me, Arwen, I know very well you have seen him yesterday. He was the reason you were late for dinner."

"But how...?" She knew it was useless to keep on trying to contradict him.

"The blood stain on your sleeve."

She sat down, feeling dizzy. It had been her fault, then. She had not been cautious enough... Elrond came to seat next to her. "I know how you feel about him. But I cannot allow such an alliance. You will have to forget him. He is not the right man for you. There are so many Elves in Rivendell, Lothlorien or Mirkwood. Why can't you choose one of them?" he said as he caressed her thin dark hair.

"Because I do not love any of them. It is Aragorn I love, Ada."

"But he is a Man. You are an Elf. There are no such marriages."

"There has been one. Long ago."

She was talking of Beren and Luthien. Elrond knew it well. "And you know how their story ended."

"Yes, they got married and loved one another deeply until the end."

"Until _their_ end, you mean. For her, this should not have been the end. She should have kept on living forever."

"But she hasn't. And she couldn't have, without him by her side. This is exactly the way I feel about Aragorn, Ada. I do not think I have to strength to live forever without him to accompany me throughout the ages."

"If you choose him, you will _not_ live forever," he stated blankly.

"And you think I do not know this? I have made my choice, Ada," she said, caressing his cheek with a loving smile.

"I will not lose faith," he retorted, gently squeezing her hand. "I will carry on trying to make you see reason and forget Aragorn, hoping that I will eventually succeed. We still have some time ahead."

**To be continued...**


	7. A wise advice

**Chapter 7: A wise advice**

Four days later, Aragorn was allowed to get up and finally leave his bed. He felt glad of it, especially since it meant he could visit Arwen easier. Now that his foster son was feeling better, Elrond had prepared a feast during which the Elven Lord was seated -as usual- at the end of the table, and on his left was his daughter. On his right were his three sons. Aragorn was placed between Elladan and Elrohir. Opposite Aragorn and next to Arwen were Gandalf and Legolas. The rest of the immense table was occupied by Elves of the House of Elrond such as Erestor and Glorfindel.

During the course of the dinner, Aragorn and Arwen tried their best not to keep staring at each other, for they wanted to try and hide their feelings from the others as much as possible, therefore they only exchanged tender glances when they thought no one was watching.

"I will summon a council tomorrow afternoon," Elrond stated. "Gandalf, Legolas, Aragorn, your presence will be required. Elladan and Elrohir, you may attend if you wish to."

The first three nodded their consent and the twins said they would be there, that they wished to discuss the future of Middle-earth as well.

Erestor then told Elrond of matters concerning Rivendell, business that were of no interest to Aragorn who quickly ceased listening to the conversation and rather focused his attention on Arwen. She was eating in silent, looking at her plate. Feeling the Ranger's gaze on her, she looked at him and their eyes locked. He softly smiled at her and she returned the loving gesture. The Lord Elrond, although he was kept busy with Erestor, did not fail to notice this scene and sighed, acknowledging that Arwen and Aragorn were already quite attached to one another and that it would be difficult to keep them apart.

"My Lord?" Erestor asked, seeing he had lost Elrond's attention. The latter was immediately taken out of his reverie and raised his eyebrows at his advisor, wanting him to repeat the question for which he was waiting an answer.

The dinner was not particularly long that evening, especially because Elrond stated that Aragorn still needed rest and should not stay up too late. After they finished eating, some went into the beautiful and endless gardens of Imladris and others returned to their room to get some rest. Once he made sure Elrond was looking elsewhere, Aragorn took Arwen's hand and led her into a small and hidden room. He locked the door and they kissed passionately, now that they knew no one was watching.

"My father came to me, earlier today," Arwen said once they had ceased kissing to recover their breath.

"What did he want?" Aragorn asked briefly, not really able to focus his attention on such a superficial subject when they were busy with something much more important at that moment. On this very instant, he wondered if maybe they wouldn't have to wait until their uncertain marriage to consume their love for each other. Valar knew how much he wanted to and was ready and eager for it... But would _she_ be ready...?

"To talkwith me about you."

He had almost forgotten about the discussion they were having, but that statement dampened his erotical thoughts.

"What did he say?" Aragorn asked, breaking their embrace. Arwen felt how much this news had had an effect on the Man and almost regretted mentioning her discussion with Elrond to Aragorn. She wanted him to hold her tighter and kiss her again. She craved for his tender contact.

"He said that we should stop seeing each other, that I should forget about you and choose an Elf instead."

"Well, I'm not surprised. He told me he wanted to talk to me, too. Maybe he is right, Arwen..." Aragorn sighed.

"How can you say this? We must stand together against him in this fight."

"It is a fight indeed. A fight between Elrond and me. We both want you by our side for the rest of our lives..." he said, almost to himself.

"Then you have won the fight, as you have won my heart," she simply answered before kissing him again. "Do not abandon me now, Aragorn."

"I will never abandon you, Arwen. My heart will always belong to you and to no other. I promise you this."

"And I will offer you my life."

Once again, they kissed tenderly. When they left the small and dark room, they made sure to leave separately before returning to their respective rooms.

When Gandalf got up the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. He went to the dining hall to have some light breakfast. There, he found Aragorn and Legolas, seated at the table with their back facing the Wizard.

"I did not know a Ranger got up so late," he said with a smile as he sat opposite them.

"Good morning, Mithrandir," Legolas answered for Aragorn who was not eating, but reading. Or rather, had a book in his hands, but did not look like he was paying much attention to the pages, since his gaze was lost, as if he was in deep thoughts, Gandalf noticed. The realized then that he might have spoken too quickly: had the Ranger just gotten up...?

"You must not fret, Aragorn, he will not. Not against her own will" Legolas said, squeezing the Man's arm. Aragorn did not respond to Legolas' words or gesture, still looking blankly at the trees of the gardens. Gandalf's eyebrows furrowed. What was all this about, he wondered.

"Who will not what?" The Wizard inquired, curious.

"Nothing," Aragorn simply answered. Gandalf surmised the Dúnadan was in a bad mood and he had to find out what was bothering him. "Legolas, my lad, I need a book from Elrond's personal library," the cunning WIzard said as he gave Legolas a piece of paper with a name on it. "Here is its title. Would be so kind as to bring it to me?"

Legolas nodded at once and left, happy he could do a favor to his friend and mentor. Meanwhile, Aragorn's attention instantly drifted back to his book and he seemed to have forgotten about the presence of Gandalf until the latter grabbed his pipe and spoke. "Well, Aragorn, how are you feeling this morning?"

Aragorn looked up from his book. "I'm feeling fine, thank you, I can hardly feel any pain, now" he answered slowly and slightly bowed his head politely before looking back down at his book. Something was indeed bothering him, Gandalf thought, noticing how much the Man was trying to avoid eye contact.

"I am glad to hear your wound is fine, but I was rather talking about _you_, Aragorn."

The Númenórean looked at Gandalf at once. "What do you mean?"

"I mean: is there anything that is bothering you and that you wish to speak about?" the Wizard answered, taking a deep puff of tobacco.

Aragorn opened his mouth to reassure the old Wizard and say _no_, but no word came out. He sighed he looked at the empty seat that had been occupied by Arwen during the dinner, the last evening. Gandalf understood the meaning of this and softly smiled. The heir of Elendil, the fearless warrior and the consummate Ranger and Chieftain of the Dúnadain had indeed a weak spot: his heart. As far as Gandalf was concerned, his love for Elrond's daughter, sad, forbidden and doomed to end in tears, conferred Aragorn, along with his kingly destiny, the image of a hero of romantic tale.

"My dear boy," the Wizard said, "do not silence your heart. Listen to your deepest feelings and do not pay attention to what others might say," he encouraged. Aragorn drank in his words, for they were the ones he needed to hear in this dark hour. "Do what you think is best."

"I do not know what is best," Aragorn countered, sighing. "Is it what I wish with all my heart or is it what morality commands?"

"Listen to your heart," Gandalf simply repeated.

"If I do, I will be selfish."

"Not if you are true, Aragorn. She loves you too, is it not enough?"

"I did not know you were such a romantic, Gandalf," Aragorn chuckled.

"Shouldn't I be?"

The Man sighed and thought it over for a minute. "Yes, I suppose you should..."

"As should any man, my very young friend."

"I am not that young, Gandalf," Aragorn countered.

"Of course, you are. You still have much to learn, especially about love."

Aragorn laughed. "If you say so..."

"I found your book, Mithrandir," Legolas announced as he entered the room. Seeing Aragorn laughing, he smiled. Gandalf had succeeded where he had failed -he had brought back a smile on the Ranger's gloom face. "Have I missed something?" he asked as he handed the book to the Wizard.

"Gandalf and I were just discussing the primordial part love plays in a man's life," Aragorn said as he stood up. "He says we, men, should act with our heart."

"I did not know Gandalf was a philosopher," Legolas added. He and Aragorn laughed while the Wizard kept on smoking, undisturbed by the two friends teasing him.

"I leave you two to debate on the endless subject of the Elves' passion for nature. This should keep you busy for a while" the Man chuckled, giving a gentle tap on Legolas' shoulder before exiting the room.

"Do not forget what I said, Númenórean, I have a feeling it may be useful to you in the future," Gandalf said to the Man before he left.

"As is everything you say, old man," the latter answered over his shoulder. This nickname was not meant to hurt him and Gandalf understood it well, for "old" meant wise. As for the remark, it made him smile fondly. He knew Aragorn would not forget.

**A few hours before**

Aragorn woke up early that morning. He had slept well and deeply, therefore he felt rested enough to get up and have his breakfast. He had no idea what his dreams had been about, he realized as he sat at the table. He was alone in the room, which was quite unusual. Still, he enjoyed the peace and the quiet he was surrounded with. He noticed a book on the far end of the table, and once he had finished eating, he took it and started reading it. He knew this book very well, it was one if the numerous Elven tales he had read many a time in the past. Still, it would keep him busy for a while. Elrond entered the room and sat opposite him.

"Good morning, Estel," he said slowly. The Lord of Imladris still called him by his Elven name sometimes and Aragorn liked it, for it comforted him. It was a mark of affection from the Elf.

"My Lord," Aragorn bowed his head. He was tensed, for he knew the Elf would eventually discuss the topic of Arwen.

"Did you sleep well? Has your wound not bothered you too much?" These were simple formalities from Elrond. Aragorn almost regretted the Elf did not go straight to the point and tell him what he had in mind.

"I slept well indeed and barely felt any pain."

"Good. Then I think you are well enough to discuss something a little less pleasant. What if you told me how you really got your wound to bleed when it was well on its way to cicatrize?"

Aragorn looked down. Elrond knew, so why would he lie to him...? He had to tell the truth. "As you have said, I have been wandering in Rivendell, although I shouldn't have moved..."

"And where did you go?"

"From the halls of healing, I had heard Arwen singing. Thinking she was in Lothlórien, I was surprised to hear her voice and went to meet her," Aragorn confessed.

Elrond did not respond at once, apparently deep in thoughts. "You will have to try and deny such impulse in the future. Aragorn, you have to understand that she is an Elf, and you are a Mortal. If you truly love her, you will let her go to the Undying Lands, where she belongs, with her people. Tell me, would you have the heart to deprive her from her Immortality, and therefore _kill_ her?"

The word _kill_ had been terrible to hear and Aragorn closed his eyes. He knew the Elven Lord was right: if he was selfish enough to marry her, it would end in her death... Aragorn sighed, helpless. On one part, his heart wanted him to live the rest of his existence with Arwen, but then again he was not sure he would have the strength to..._kill_ her.

Seeing Aragorn did not answer and seemed confused, Elrond continued. "Well, will you listen to reason, then?"

"I do not know, my Lord. I only know that I love her and she loves me."

"Love is not sufficient," Elrond stated, his voice slightly angrier.

"Oh yes, I think it is," Aragorn countered, his voice rising likewise.

Elrond looked behind Aragorn and sighed. "We will have to postpone this conversation, someone is coming and I do not wish such a discussion to be heard."

"Have we not already said all that needs to be said?"

"No, we have not," Elrond vaguely answered, as he smiled to the incoming Elf who sat next to Aragorn.

"Good morning, my Lord Elrond," Legolas said, bowing his head slightly. The Elven Lord returned the politeness and left the hall. "Have you slept well, Aragorn?" Legolas asked, sensing the Man's tension.

"I have, Legolas. Have you?"

"Indeed I have. I have had the most delightful dream. I dreamt I was lying on the soft green grass by a cool day of Summer. I could hear a stream in the back and birds singing," Legolas said, smiling.

"Oh, really? How exciting...!" Aragorn answered sarcastically. "My dear Legolas, once again you prove the absurdity of the Elves' never ending passion for the wild... For my part, I fear I would find such a dream quite boring."

"What is bothering you, Aragorn?" Legolas asked at once. He did not blame his friend for what he had just said, although it had been somewhat mean. But such a remark from Aragorn would never hurt his feelings, for he knew it meant his friend was troubled by something. Instead of arguing with him, he decided he would try and help him.

Aragorn sighed, ashamed of what he had said to Legolas. Yes, Elves loved the nature, but then again who didn't? He, too, liked it and enjoyed lying on the grass under the sun... He looked in Legolas' eyes. "I am sorry, mellon nin, I should never have spoken to you that way..."

Legolas chuckled and put his hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "Do not worry, you were forgiven even before you apologized."

Aragorn smiled at him and felt glad Legolas was at his side, at present. "Hannon le," the Ranger simply said.

"Are you troubled by something Elrond has said?" Legolas tried to guess.

"We were talking about Arwen. He does not want us to fall in love."

"I fear he is too late, then," Legolas countered, for he knew well of Aragorn's feeling towards the Elven Lady.

"Indeed," Aragorn chuckled. The Elven Prince was right: Arwen and Aragorn were already very much in love... "He told his daughter to forget about me and search for an Elf instead." The Dúnadan grew more serious. "He was right about something, though: I am not sure I can bring myself to ask her to forsake her Immortal life. This is a far too precious gift."

"Why don't you let her decide on this matter? This is her choice and her own. If she loves you truly, she will rather live hundred years with you than one thousand years alone."

Aragorn smiled at Legolas. "I believe you are right. But Elrond will not allow our marriage. I fear he will send her to the Undying Lands against her own will..."

"I did not know a Ranger got up so late," they heard Gandalf say, which took them by surprise, for they had not heard him enter.

"Good morning, Mithrandir," Legolas answered cheerfully while Aragorn paid no attention to the Wizard. "You must not fret, Aragorn, he will not." Legolas continued. "Not against her own will"

"Who will not what?" The Wizard asked.

"Nothing," Aragorn simply answered. He did not wish everyone in Rivendell to be aware of his distress, although Gandalf always had a way in helping people. Gandalf sent Legolas to fetch him some book. Aragorn knew it was a way of getting rid of him in order to talk more freely and secretly. Refusing to be felt sorry for by the old Wizard, Aragorn pretended to be captivated by the book in his hands -which he had more or less forgotten until then. When Gandalf started the conversation, Aragorn looked at the Wizard and decided it would be better to listen to his wise advices. He knew he could count on Gandalf to help him, whatever trial he had to face.

**To be continued...**


	8. The Council

**Chapter 8: The council**

"I looked into the future and I saw darkness," Elrond said while the others sat in the chairs arranged in a circle. This statement of the Elven Lord opened the discussion of the council he had summoned the day before. Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir were there to participate to the debate. "Darkness spreading from Mordor," the Elf elaborated.

"Then we must act, before it is too late," Gandalf said. "The attacks of orcs which we have witnessed lately are but the beginning. It is a sign that the Enemy is regrouping forces."

"Then, this means he has a plan," Aragorn stated. "But what _can_ we do? I doubt any of us know what he is planning to do..."

"Maybe I am wrong, but I feel we might find our answers in the Shire," Gandalf said.

"The Shire?" Aragorn asked, surprised. "Gandalf, I do not think the Halflings who live there could be of any help to us. No forces can be found there, Sauron has no interest in it. If he strikes, he will fight Men, not Hobbits."

"No forces, you say?" Gandalf retorted, slightly annoyed. "They are no soldiers, indeed, but strength does not always involve a sword, Aragorn. Hobbits can be very surprising creatures. Of the bravest and the most faithful."

Aragorn sighed softly. He knew of Gandalf's fondness for Hobbits and feared it might blind him, although the Dúnadan knew he could trust the decisions and instincts of the wise Wizard.

"Do you remember Gollum?" Elrond asked, looking at Aragorn and Gandalf. Both nodded. They hated the name, and especially Aragorn who had been wandering for months in search of the filthy creature. "And do you remember why you were looking for it?" Elrond continued, looking more particularly at Aragorn.

"We needed to question him," the Man answered.

"I remember," Legolas continued. "He had had the One Ring in his possession. We wanted informations about it."

"And I believe the Ring is the cause of the growing shadows," Elrond said slowly. "Gollum has been captured by the Enemy and is now imprisoned and tortured. They, too, want information about the Ring. They are looking for it. We must find it before they do."

"How?" Aragorn asked. "We do not know where to look. The Ring has disappeared many years ago. Why would Sauron start looking for it now?"

"I fear this is a question none of us is able to answer at present, Estel, but the answer may come to us in the future. If Gandalf says the Shire could have a part to play in this, then we should start there," Elrond said.

"Very well, I told Bilbo I would come back for his 109th birthday, therefore I will be heading there as soon as possible," Gandalf announced. Then he looked at Aragorn. "And you will accompany me, my friend."

Aragorn raised his eyebrows. "I will?"

"Yes, Captain, I will need your Dúnadain Rangers. The Shire must be protected, and only you are quiet and brave enough for this. Besides, you are already known in Bree and its surroundings, therefore will it look less suspicious to see you wander about these parts than an army of Elves."

"Gandalf is right," Elrond stated.

Aragorn did not know how to react. He had not made any plans of guarding the Shire, a realm he knew to be completely out of danger -simply because most did not know it even existed. "Are you quite certain the Shire needs any protection at all?"

"Indeed," Gandalf answered. "All Middle-earth is in danger, even its most remote and safest parts."

"Very well, if this is your wish, I shall ask my men to patrol near the Shire. And I will gladly do it, for I know I can trust you decision." Aragorn said these words with sincerity and respect, although deep inside, he was reluctant to watch over Hobbits. He feared it might be a waste of time and did not like to go to Bree, a small city where Rangers were not particularly welcomed or appreciated. More than once in the past, he had experienced the hatred and fear of the folks of Bree and tried as much as possible to avoid their unpleasant company.

Gandalf nodded and smiled. He knew he could have faith in the Ranger. In time, Aragorn, too, would come to like the Hobbits. The Wizard knew of Aragorn's efforts when he accepted to help him, for he was aware Rangers were disliked in Bree -actually, they were not popular in any parts, but Bree must have been the worst. He was thankful for Aragorn's courage and good will.

"Very well, then," Elrond said. "I believe we have come to a conclusion: Gandalf and Aragorn will start their journey towards the Shire in search for the Ring. Only time will tell us if we are heading in the right direction."

They all stood up and bowed at Elrond before exiting the room. Legolas, Gandalf and Aragorn, were walking at the same pace.

"Gandalf," Legolas suddenly said. "May I ask why the Shire is so important to you?"

"Indeed you may, my lad, but let us wait until we reach the gardens. There, we will sit down and I will tell the both of you a story."

Aragorn frowned, he had made no plan of going to the gardens. He wanted to meet Arwen instead. He looked at Gandalf at once and opened his mouth to protest, but Gandalf put his hand up to stop him. "The both of you, I said," the Wizard told him with a look that meant Aragorn had no choice but to accept. "This tale I am to tell you is of great importance and you will have to hear it, Aragorn," he said, placing his hand on the Númenórean's shoulder as they walked. Aragorn sighed and went with them.

"When shall we leave Rivendell?" The Ranger asked Gandalf.

"In a couple of days."

It was far too soon. Aragorn's heart hurt when he heard the news. He had just come back to Rivendell and seen Arwen again, and now he had to leave just as quickly. And he had no idea when he would come back. Would this little quest in Eriador last for months? Or for _years_? When would he have the chance to see his Elven love again...?

"There," Gandalf said, which took Aragorn out of his melancholic reverie. "We shall sit here," the Wizard stated as he gestured to a bench in the gardens. Once they were settled, Gandalf started his narration. "A long time ago (he looked at Aragorn) -you were only a child, then- I have been on a quest with a most unusual party. There were thirteen Dwarves and a Hobbit with me. You have already heard of the Halfling's name: Bilbo Baggins."

At this point, Aragorn cut him off. "I have already heard this tale, Gandalf, I have heard it a hundred times. I know every detail of it. Therefore, if you will excuse me, I will take my leave," he said as he stood up, but Gandalf grabbed his hand at once.

"You are not going anywhere, Aragorn, until I have finished my tale," he said sternly. "I am not going to tell you about Smaug, but of a peculiar incident that happened in a remote cave. A detail of the story I have never found the use of revealing until now. It may very well have something to do with our future quest, Strider."

"Strider" -as he was called in Bree- reluctantly sat back down to listen to the Wizard who went on. "We left the Shire to recover a treasury, and on our way, Bilbo found himself lost and trapped in a dark cave."

Aragorn sighed heavily. He had also heard the part of the cave before and felt like he was wasting precious minutes he would have rather spent with Arwen.

"Will you please let me finish this tale, Aragorn?" Gandalf grunted as he had heard the Man sighing. "The longer you moan about it, the longer it will last!"

Aragorn, surprised by the old Wizard's reaction, looked down. "Please, go ahead, I'm listening," he said.

"Very well. I do not know what exactly happened in the cave, for Bilbo never explained the incident fully to any of us. However, I know that when he escaped the cave, he behaved slightly differently than he had before. I felt something had occurred in the cave, but I do not know what." Gandalf did not speak for several minutes, apparently thinking. Legolas' gaze was also blank, lost. Only Aragorn was still waiting for the Wizard to go on, and was growing impatient.

"Well?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Well what?" Gandalf retorted, taken out of his reverie, as he grabbed his pipe and started smoking. Legolas grimaced, the smell of tobacco was awful.

"Do you mean you've said everything you had to say?" Aragon asked, annoyed. He felt he had indeed lost his time.

"Yes, I have. Are you not satisfied with my tale, young one?"

"To say the truth, I don't see the point in your story. Was it supposed to come to some sort of conclusion, apart from making us waste our time?"

"I did not know my company was boring you," Gandalf said, teasing Aragorn.

"It has nothing to do with you, Gandalf, only you have told us this tale many a time. Since no enlightenment has been brought to it today, I feel it has been useless. As for your company, you know very well I cherish it, however, I would have rather spent the few remaining hours I have here, in Rivendell, with someone else."

Gandalf smiled. "Are you quite certain it has been so useless? In time, you will come to understand the full meaning of this story, Aragorn. Since I am done with telling tales today, I release you. Go, join your dear Elf."

Aragorn bowed his head and left his two friends. They watched him leave.

"Mithrandir?" Legolas asked. "Would It be much trouble for you to face the wind? That way, I could avoid receiving the smoke from your pipe."

Gandalf turned around at once. Legolas thanked him. "How long do you think it will take? The patrols around the Shire, I mean," the Elf asked.

"I honestly have no idea, Legolas. Although I will not remain in the Shire for long, Aragorn will have to stay there for some time. We have to protect the Hobbits."

Legolas nodded silently. He knew he could not accompany them, for it was not his task, but he hated not knowing when he might see Aragorn again. Both had faced so many dangers, overcome many trials, and now they had to be parted. What if Aragorn was wounded, there, and needed his help...?

Gandalf, sensing Legolas' sudden tension, placed his hand on his shoulder. "Do not worry, Legolas, I doubt anything will happen to us in the Shire. Not for some time, anyway. It is indeed a very quiet and safe realm."

"My Lords?" They heard from behind them. An Elf was coming towards them. "I beg your pardon, my Lords, but have you seen Estel? The Lord Elrond is asking for him."

Both shook their heads. They wanted to give Aragorn some time with Arwen. If Elrond was looking for him, it could take a while and Aragorn's only wish was to be with his Elven love. The Elf thanked them and resumed his seeking.

**Meanwhile**

Aragorn and Arwen were lying on her bed. He was caressing her long dark hair and her hand was laid on his stomach, her eyes closed peacefully. She opened them and kissed his cheek, then his mouth. Their kiss was passionate and tender. When it ceased, they were out of breath. His eyes were full of lust and hers were asking for more. They kissed again and he rolled over her, their mouthes still together, as one. He wanted -no, he _craved_- to undress her and feel her gorgeous shapes under his hand, but he did not want to rush her. He looked deeply in her eyes and thought that, maybe, she had the same idea about him, but he had to make sure. Slowly, his hand went from her cheek to her breast -not once did his eyes leave hers. She did not make any move to stop him. This was a good sign. She breathed heavily at his soft and loving touch on her body. He smiled at her and kissed her again.

"Arwen..." he whispered in her pointy ear, hoping she might give him some kind of clearance.

She rolled over him and she caressed his torso. Then she lowered her thin hand towards his abdomen, and finally his crotch. She had never felt anything like this before. His manhood was fully developed -and tight in his pants. It formed a huge hump in them. She smiled, amazed. As for Aragorn, the feeling was different. He was not amazed, but rather overwhelmed. Never before had he felt such delight. He gasped as soon as her hand touched him. And he found himself praying the Valar that she would never remove it from where it now laid.

All this happened very quickly, although it seemed to last long for the two lovers. A knock on the door caught them off guard -and disappointed them terribly. They had wanted to be alone, in a time like this, but it seemed that, lately, in the House of Elrond, it was becoming quite difficult to be at peace. Panicking, they got up at once and tried to catch their breath again.

"My Lady Arwen?" they heard from behind the door.

Once both were presentable, she opened the door. An Elf entered when he saw Aragorn. "My Lady, I am sorry to bother you, but the Lord Elrond has asked to see Estel."

Aragorn looked at Arwen, disappointed. They would not be able to be together, for now. Reluctantly, he followed the Elf towards Elrond's study, leaving Arwen on her own when he would have given anything to share a tender moment with her.

Once Aragorn and the Elf left, all Arwen could do was sit on her bed and weep. Her father was constantly -even when he did not do it on purpose- coming between Aragorn and her. She feared their love was bound to end all too soon. She feared they might never get married. And it broker her heart, for she knew she would never love any other than Aragorn, son of Arathorn. She had known it ever since she had laid eyes on him on his twentieth birthday. She wept and wept, praying the Valar to show compassion and help the tragic fate of the lovers.

**To be continued...**


End file.
